


His Father's Voice

by DesireeArmfeldt



Series: Sounds of Silence [3]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: ds_snippets | dsc6dsnippets, Gen, POV Third Person Limited, Physical Disability, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5637403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/pseuds/DesireeArmfeldt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser encounters his father's ghost for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Father's Voice

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the prompt "voice" at [ds-snippets.](http://ds-snippets.livejournal.com)

_Sam Dalton made only one mistake. He planned everything but how he was going to spend the money. . ._

 

Fraser pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows he’s read something in his father’s journals that reminds him of the present situation with the wheelman and his son. If only he could _find_ it.

 

“Sam’s case was nothing like this,” says his father’s voice.

 

His father’s _voice._

 

 _I can hear again!_ he thinks wildly, his heart thundering in his chest, throat, ears. And then, _Dad’s dead. He died months ago._

_But I_ heard _him._

 

He squeezes his eyes shut, holds his breath and strains his ears. It’s been so long since he tried to _listen_ that he’s not sure he remembers how.

 

He hears. . .nothing. The blank silence he’s become accustomed to since his accident in the Sound. His pulse throbs on, but it’s only pressure.

 

“What are you doing, Son?”

 

“I’m _listening,_ Dad.”

 

“Well, that’s a silly waste of time. You’re deaf.”

 

“Yes, and you’re _dead,_ ” Fraser snaps, but _something_ is clearly wrong, either with reality or with his own mind, so he can’t help asking, “Aren’t you?”

 

“Of course. But there’s no need to be snippy about it.”

 

Fraser opens his eyes and looks over his shoulder. His father’s face creases in a cheerful smile, snowflakes fluttering from his fur hat.

 

“But I can _hear_ you,” Fraser whispers. A child’s plea/protest. _Make it all better, Daddy._

 

But Bob just says briskly, “Evidently. Now, this case you’re working on: fill me in.”

 

He’s a grown man, and though he may currently be losing his mind, being maudlin won’t help. So he swallows hard, and begins, “Well, there was a bank robbery today. . .” And if his voice breaks, well, he can’t hear it, can he?


End file.
